Carried by the Wind: A Friends Fanfic
by andrea.honey24631
Summary: Phoebe Buffay, untroubled, radiant and always gleeful, has been suffering in silence for years. She's tired of fighting, and one step away from peace and freedom. Please r&r.
1. Leaves

A little girl once chased leaves of all colors and sizes as they were carried away by the wind on a warm autumn afternoon. She would run and fall and scrape her knees, but at the end of the day, she would lay on her bed with a smile on her face and a mind filled with hopes and dreams.

Years later, a woman enviously watched as the wind picked up a cluster of leaves and peacefully sent them flying off the rooftop into the still night sky. She knew she would not be going to bed tonight. Soon, she would be as weightless as those leaves, and there would be no more cold nights, no more heartache.

Phoebe Buffay was fourteen years old when her mother decided life was not worth living, not even for the sake of her two children. Young Phoebe coming home after a long day in the snow had expected to find hot chocolate and freshly baked cookies waiting for her on the kitchen counter. Instead, she stumbled upon a sight her eyes would never forget.

To this day, she still vividly remembers her dead mother laying on the kitchen floor.

The following months were filled with confusion and unbearable pain, a pain so strong and so new to Phoebe that it raged her. Her mother's selfish decision was causing her to feel things she had never felt before, have thoughts no fourteen year old should have. Having no control over her emotions made the young girl's blood boil. Her mother, the woman who was supposed to shield her away from harm's way, had hurt her in a way nothing else ever had. She couldn't understand why she had done something so impulsive, so mindless.

Now, as she stood on the rooftop's edge, inches away from death, Phoebe smiled to herself. She could finally grasp the reasoning behind her mom's decision, and she now knew that there had been nothing impulsive or mindless about it. Suicide started out as a small thought, but it slowly began to consume you until you made it a plan, a destination. You could take months, even years to finally go through with it, but when you did, you'd comprehend that the act of ending your own life takes an awful lot of contemplation.

But what exactly drives one to suicide? Add to the list of things Phoebe couldn't help but wonder as she set foot in the streets of New York city. All those years out in the cold of Manhattan, she blamed herself for her mother's death. The thought, Phoebe knew, was completley irrational. She had done nothing but be a child, a very loving, kind hearted and joyous one, as a matter of fact. How would a little girl like her kill her mother's will to live, she didn't know, but she was still convinced that it was her who drove the woman to end her life. Teenage Phoebe blamed herself because she had no answers and she desperately wished for closure, even if it meant carrying the unnecessary weight of guilt for the rest of her life. She didn't know, as she does now, that what killed her mother were the memories.

You can escape, go home, lock the door, but the memory of what happened will always be there, trapped in your mind. No matter how far you try to push it away, it will always come back. At first it'll only be there when the world goes dark and silent and you're left alone with your thoughts, but then, it'll start hunting you during the daylight, in the middle of a laugh. It'll stain your mind and devour your happiness until there's nothing left of it, until all that's left in you is the memory of what happened. And so you begin to fake a smile, to force a laugh. You become the optimist, the happy one, because the memory is yours only and if you let the others see behind the mask, they'll know, but they will never understand. Keeping it to yourself is easier, so you decide to suffer in silence.

Phoebe Buffay was sixteen years old when she was raped in a back alley. Her virginity, one of her only possessions at the time, was taken from her from her best friend, the guy she lived with and trusted with her life. He left her there, shaking and bleeding, and he was never to be seen again. All that was left of the cheery little girl she once was was gone. She left her happiness in that back alley and never came back for it. That night, a sixteen year old girl lay on a pile of cartons with tear stained cheeks and a mind filled with broken hopes and dreams.


	2. Whispers

A few weeks later, Phoebe found herself pregnant.

She roamed the streets alone for months, her belly growing larger day by day. She would beg for money, she'd get down on her knees if she had to, if it meant that her baby wouldn't starve to death. She'd sit on the sidewalk during midday, her head throbbing and her stomach growling from hunger. At the time, she was convinced she had hit rock bottom. How wrong she was.

Years later, Phoebe cringed at the memory. Her stubborn mind would always remind her of what happened after. She would never forget the sharp pain she felt on a particularly cold night during the fourth month of her pregnancy. She would never forget the trickling sensation of blood running down her legs followed by her own cries of despair. And she would certainly never forget what she was told.

"I'm so sorry, but you've lost your baby."

For years, she had managed to suppress the whisper in her head, the voice, those eight words. She could still hear them in her mind at times, haunting her, but she had learned how to quiet down her thoughts and forcefully move on. But then, her half brother had asked her to give life to his baby, and Phoebe being Phoebe had accepted. She thought she could take it, after all, it all had happened so long ago, and most importantly, Phoebe would make a loved one happy. So she was Frank and Alice's surrogate and she had had the triplets. Phoebe had given birth to not one, but three babies, and she could take none home. She wouldn't be able to feed them, bathe them, sing to them, love and protect them and watch them grow up. She was losing a child all over again. As she stared down at the babies on her arms the whisper became louder and louder, and soon tears were being spilled from her eyes.

The following nights were the most painful she had had in years. All the memories she had tried so hard to push away came flooding back, causing a turmoil of emotions in her mind. She dreamt about that back alley, reliving every single part of the experience. She still remembered exactly how it felt like, exactly where it throbbed, where it bled and where it bruised. She dreamt that she then lay in that same alley, pregnant. She sang and protectively rubbed her belly, but then, it was no longer there. Her baby was gone and she was covered in blood.

"I'm so sorry, but you've lost your baby."

Phoebe would wake up, tears rolling down her cheeks. She'd lay awake the rest of the night, her heart aching more than ever. But then, when the sun rised and the world filled with light she would put on her best smile and she'd be the quirky, happy Phoebe all her friends had known and loved. As far as Monica, Rachel, Joey, Chandler and Ross were concerned, there was nothing wrong with their friend.

Days went by and the blonde's heart throbbed more with each passing second. Phoebe couldn't help but wonder if she had the courage to make it stop, to make it all stop. But then, there came a time when she could take no more of her thoughts. She was Phoebe Buffay, the same girl who lived on the streets at only fourteen, the one who had learned to kick and punch when needed, the sixteen year old who managed to move on after she had lost her baby. She was the woman who fought her way out of homelessness and found a way to make a living. She was pained on the inside, but she was strong.

Now standing on the rooftop, Phoebe fondlessly thought of the days where she still believed in herself. Despite her broken heart and her quiet hurting, she had always thought she could make it. She would meet the love of her life, have children, grow old, but those thoughts had stopped crossing her mind a long time ago. As she stared at the emptiness beneath her, Phoebe knew she had no future ahead of her.

Months had passed since she had given birth to the triplets, and she was better, she truly was. The blonde was slowly pulling herself out of the dark hole she had fallen into and she was almost out, until it happened. Again.

She had been drunk, which is not unusual for a young woman partying in a nightclub located in the city that never sleeps. Her, Monica and Rachel had decided to have a girls night out. The usual, get in the first place with music and have stupid fun. That night, Phoebe felt particularly carefree, and she drank and danced like she hadn't done in a long time. Soon, the blonde one spotted a handsome man checking her out, and the following hours consisted of constant flirting and intense kissing. Phoebe had lost track of Monica and Rachel, but she couldn't care less. All she wanted was to have an unforgettable night, and damn right she would always remember what happened.

It was far past midnight when he suggested they'd go somewhere quiet where no one would disturb them. Part of Phoebe knew she shouldn't trust a stranger, but she had just the right amount of alcohol in her system to fearlessly follow the handsome guy out the back door. And there, in the back of a nigh club, Phoebe was forcefully shoved against the ground and raped for the second time in her life.

She felt his rough and violent touch against her skin as tears blurred her vision and soft whimpers escaped her lips. He no longer had to cover her mouth, as she felt too weak to scream. The familiarity of it all made it terribly worse, and for a split second she had seen the face of the guy she had once called her best friend forcing himself on her, smiling, enjoying it. She felt as if she had laid there for hours until her abuser walked away, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face. Phoebe had taken her phone, texted Monica to let her know she was going home, and she had walked all the way back to her apartment. Once she was there, she shut the door, got in her bed and numbly stared at the ceiling.

Right then and there, Phoebe Buffay wanted to die.


	3. Freedom

Things had been bad, but that's when they started getting ugly. Monica and Rachel called the next day, after all, it was extremely unusual for Phoebe to leave a party early. She had reassured the girls that she had just been really tired, that she was fine, and she sounded so calm and upbeat that they instantly bought it. It was Phoebe after all, when was she ever unhappy. However, the truth was everything hurt, and not only physically. Memories of her past replayed in her mind over and over again, and her pained body was a constant reminder of the night before. She didn't leave her apartment in days, with the excuse that she had simply fallen ill, and honestly she really was sick. Phoebe was sick of thinking, of being hurt constantly, of never being able to escape her past, to move on. Phoebe was sick of life.

Once again, she began acting, putting on daily performances for those close to her. No one had any idea how much pain she was in and she figured that faking it would help her move on, after all, it had worked in the past. But forcing laughs and cracking jokes didn't do her any good, and she always found herself having spontaneous breakdowns at random times of the day. However, she was always careful to not let anybody see her. She'd go in the bathroom, lock the door and cry until she ran out of tears. Then she'd wash her face, put some makeup on and walk back out as if nothing had happened. She'd curse under her breath every time she found herself thinking about it all during a meal with her friends, during a movie night or even in the middle of one of the gang's meaningless arguments. Her heart was stained, bruised and broken and she constantly pondered whether she should just end it all.

Then her grandmother had died, and despite having made a small deal out of it in front of her friends, the truth was it had hugely upset her. The old lady had taken her in and cared for her like a mother would have done, and losing her was painful. What happened angered Phoebe, who was tired of being in a constant state of sadness. But ironically, in her grandma's funeral, she finally found a reason to live, a tiny ray of hope. She had met her father.

Phoebe had been skeptical about talking to him at first. After all, this was the man who had run out on her family. He had abandoned them when they needed each other the most, and he was partly the reason why she didn't have a mother anymore. But despite the anger she felt towards him, Frank was still her dad and she needed parental love now more than ever. Maybe getting her family back was her chance at happiness.

They met up and chatted through coffee, and at the end of the day, Frank promised he'd make up for all the lost time. They exchanged phone numbers, and Phoebe went home with the hope that she'd have her dad again, finally someone who could love and protect her. But days went by and he never called. She had rang him countless times but it was no use so Phoebe convinced herself that maybe he was just busy, until once day she received a text message.

"I'm so sorry, but I can't do this. Please don't try to contact me again."

And that was it for her. Just like that, Phoebe decided she was worthless. Not even her own father wanted to be part of her life, and it had to be her fault. Was she really that hard to deal with? That explained why she had had no serious relationships so far, because every single guy she met eventually got bored of her and went off to meet someone better, someone prettier and smarter. She thought of David and how he had gotten married the past fall. He had gone to Minsk and he had forgotten about her, about all the promises he had made. But how could she blame him, all men ever saw her like was a toy and it was her fault. It was her fault she had been raped twice, it was her fault her baby died, it was her fault every person she cared about had left her. It was all her fault because how could others possibly love her when she didn't even love herself.

So she had spent the next few weeks thinking about her mom, about what she did, how she had freed herself away from the pain. Phoebe wanted to live, she really did, but if living meant feeling that way forever then she couldn't do it. She had fought for so long and she was so tired. Her suffering had began since a very young age and it never seemed to go away. She knew she would feel this pain as long as she lived, she knew the memories would be there as long as she kept breathing. Phoebe just wanted to be at peace, it was the least she deserved.

And now here she was, standing on the edge of the rooftop, desperately wanting to follow the leaves as they were carried away by the wind. She knew she was being selfish, especially because she would jump to her death precisely in the building where four of her closest friends lived. She knew she would cause harm to those around her, but she couldn't keep living for the sake of others, she was in too much pain. And there, inches away from death, Phoebe finally understood why her mother had done it, and she forgave her.

She thought of Ursula, the one person she knew for sure would not shed a single tear over her death. Phoebe had always wished they had made up. As twins, they could have made some amazing memories together. But tonight, ironically, she was consoled over the fact that her sister didn't love her, because that meant she'd be hurting one less person. Her mind then turned to Frank Jr. They had met each other not that long ago, but Phoebe had learned to care for him as if she had known her little brother since the moment he was born. The news would likely upset him, but she knew that with Alice and the triplets he would forget about her in the blink of an eye. And her birth mom, Phoebe, who she hadn't spoken to since the babies were born, would certainly move on immediately. Sure, she had given birth to her, and they had managed to bond for quite some time, but there hadn't been a special connection between the two, and Phoebe knew that.

Finally, the blonde one thought of her friends. The truth was if it weren't for them, she'd given up a long time ago. They had become her family, and she loved them more than words could describe. She thought of Joey's kind heart, Rachel's free willed spirit, Chandler's lovable wit, Monica's passionate soul and Ross's caring personality. They were all unique and special in their own way, and, unlike her, her friends would go far. They all had a bright and shiny futures ahead. She knew they'd hurt for quite some time, but Phoebe comforted herself by acknowledging that she wasn't that important. She was the quirky and weird one of the group, an easy replacement, someone anyone would forget about in a matter of seconds.

Phoebe placed her hands on her heart and felt its beating through the soft fabric. She felt tears rolling down her cheeks as a smile spread across her face. She would finally be free from it all. Phoebe took another step towards the edge, her toes now left hanging. Soon, the blackness around her would engulf her, and she'd be left feeling absolutely nothing. The blonde one took one last moment to remember, to think back about her past and everything and everyone she'd be leaving behind. One last breath, one last look at her happiest and dearest memories before it all faded away. She stretched out her foot. This was it. It would all be over in a matter of seconds, she just had to inch closer, and closer, and-

"Pheebs?"


	4. Voices

The voice had stopped Phoebe dead in her tracks. She could recognize it even miles away, and while the familiar sound had always inspired trust and comfort, tonight it had made her her skin crawl and her heart skip a beat. She knew the sight that awaited once she turned around, and for a few seconds, Phoebe just stood there looking at the sky, not daring to move. Once she did, she instantly regretted having turned her gaze away from the darkness.

No, please, not now, not when she was about to be free, when she was about to finally find peace.

Behind her, close to the entrance, stood the five most important people in her life. They were looking at her through the faint lamp light, eyes wide, their faces drained from color. She had not heard the door open.

"Pheebs" Joey repeated in almost a whisper, his voice trembling more than ever. She stared at them blankly, trying to find the right words, but they never came. She wanted to yell at them, she wanted to scream and rip everything apart because somehow she was always stopped before she could reach happiness, before she found tranquility. If it weren't for them, she would no longer be in pain by now.

And so there they stood for five endless minutes, no one daring to move or speak, no one wanting to face the reality of the situation. It was Rachel who finally broke the silence.

"What are you doing at the edge?" she had asked, but they already knew the answer. The group had arrived just in time to see the blonde begin to stretch out her leg in front of her. Their friend was moving in a manner too slow and steady for someone who was a step away from falling to their death, and not to mention that instead of getting herself to safety, she was inching closer to the border. As bizarre and idiotic as it sounds, it took the five of them a moment to realize what she was about to do. That was Phoebe, gleeful, untroubled, radiant Phoebe. What the hell was she doing there? Did she not realize she was awfully close to falling? There had to be a logical explanation. But then, looks were shared and unspoken words were exchanged. And then they all knew. Phoebe, their Phoebe, had gone up to the rooftop to end her life.

And now here they were, bewildered, waiting for their friend to say something, anything.

"Why are you here?" she finally spoke, her voice cold and low. The rest were all taken aback; they had never heard such an unwelcoming and distant tone come out of Phoebe's mouth.

"We were worried," began Monica, fighting to keep her voice steady, "We hadn't heard from you in the whole day so we asked around if anyone had seen you. Mr. Treeger told us he bumped into you in the last floor as you headed up the stairs," she explained, taking control of the situation, "We just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Well i'm fine. You can go now." Phoebe stated with a lost gaze. She was growing impatient by now. She had come up here to do one thing, one last thing, and she couldn't wait any longer.

Her friends stared at her incredulously. In front of them stood a woman they did not recognize. Phoebe's usual gleaming smile was nowhere to be seen and her always warm and friendly expression now seemed drained from emotion. They didn't know what to do, but one thing was clear: there was no way they'd let their friend do this.

"Pheebs," Chandler, who for the first time in his life had been left speechless, finally found the courage to say something, "Why don't you move away from the edge and come talk to us?" he had spoken very slowly, careful to choose the right words. He couldn't risk saying the wrong thing and losing her forever.

"There's nothing to say," she answered, not moving from her spot.

"Yes there is," said Ross, "don't you think we deserve an explanation?" he hadn't meant to sound harsh, but he was incapable of thinking rationally at that moment.

Phoebe had to admit Ross was right. Her friends did deserve some kind of explanation. She knew that if she were in their place, and she came across one of the other five about to jump off a building, she'd be confused and scared as hell, especially if that person was the optimist of the group. If she were one of them, she'd definitely want answers. But what could she possibly say? They had no idea of what she'd been through, and Phoebe was sure that if she ever told them they wouldn't look at her the same, they would never understand.

"Pheebs," Joey, who could tell she wouldn't be speaking anytime soon, knew they had to try harder, "please come over to us, please. I need you. We all do," he pleaded. He didn't know what he'd do if anything happened to Phoebe, and he would never forgive himself if they weren't able to save her.

Phoebe's heart throbbed once she noticed Joey's eyes fill with tears. There was no way she could do this to them, at least not now. She cared too much about her friends to watch them suffer, especially knowing it was her fault. Finally, the blonde stepped away from the border and walked towards the group, causing the other five to let out sighs of relief. They could now keep her out of danger.

Phoebe stood there in silence as the others stared at her in concern.

"Honey come on, talk to us," said Monica.

"I can't," she replied.

"Pheebs it's us, you can tell us anything."

"You wouldn't understand," said the blonde, looking away.

Monica, Rachel, Chandler, Joey and Ross were perplexed. What the hell had Phoebe gone through that made her wanna do this?

"What's so bad you can't tell us, sweetie?" Rachel asked carefully.

Phoebe's lip trembled. She couldn't bring herself to say it, say all of it. All she wanted was to sleep and never wake up, never have to face her emotions, never have to remember again.

"Why do you want to do this?" Rachel's small and gentle voice asked.

"It hurts too much," she finally said, her voice breaking, "Everything hurts. I can't do it anymore," and before she could stop herself, sobs began escaping her mouth and tears filled her eyes. Phoebe dropped to the ground and covered her mouth with her hands, unsuccessfully trying to quiet down her heartwrenching cries. It wasn't long until she felt five pairs of arms around her. Her friends embraced her as she sobbed uncontrollably. They held her tight, as if trying to keep her broken pieces together, some even cried with her. They stroke her hair and kissed her head, giving her as much time as she needed. Eventually, after quite a long time, Phoebe's eyes ran out of tears and she was left choking out dry sobs.

"What happened to you Pheebs?" asked Chandler after minutes of silence. They had let her cry, but now it was her turn to speak. They couldn't just forget about tonight and move on, something was going on and they were gonna get to the bottom of it.

"It's a long story," admitted the blonde in a hoarse voice.

"We've got all night."


	5. Friends

Two hours ago, Phoebe wouldn't have even considered telling anyone about what haunted her day and night, but now, she was too tired and she couldn't pretend any longer. Besides, her friends had seen her stand at the edge of the rooftop, they had watched her break down; it's not like they'd let her walk away without an explanation. Phoebe knew that after tonight they'd all look at her differently, she knew no one but her could grasp the real magnitude of what she'd been through, but they deserved to know.

So she told them. She spoke for almost an hour, taking long pauses from time to time and her eyes filling with tears ocassionally, but she said it all. Phoebe found herself detailedly sharing stories she never thought she'd be saying out loud, expressing feelings she thought she couldn't put into words. On the one hand, she felt a huge weight being carried off her, but at the same time, the reality of it all was hitting her like a wall of bricks.

Her five friends listened patiently, their hearts breaking for her. Eyes widened and jaws dropped, a few tears were shed and countless gasps periodically filled the air. They held her hand, they embraced her when necessary, but no one said a word during the entirety of the hour. None of them could believe what they were hearing. By the time their friend was done they were all too shocked to speak.

"Phoebe," Ross finally said, "I am so, so sorry," he wrapped his arms around her tense figure and rubbed her back soothingly. The others watched doumbfounded, still not knowing how to react.

"Oh my God," Rachel murmured, gently embracing her pained friend from the side. Still at a loss for words, all soon began joining in the hug, all except Joey.

"I'm going to find every single person who hurt you, and I mean it."

"Joey," Monica started.

"I'm going to make them wish they were dead!"

"Joey!"

"No! Look at her! Look at what they did to her! I'm gonna rip them apart!" Joey had never felt so angry in his whole entire life. These people had hurt Phoebe, his Phoebe, the one he loved and adored more than words could describe. He swore to God that if he managed to find the sick bastards that had done this to his friend the pain he'd cause them would be so excruciating that they'd eternally regret ever laying a hand on her.

"It's fine, Joey. You don't have to do anything," a trembling Phoebe said before he could continue.

"Yes I do Pheebs," he stated, lowering his voice; he had noticed his outburst had slightly shaken her up, "I do have to do something. Watching you like this, seeing what you were about to do...it's just horrible. I'm here to protect you and I'm gonna make sure no one ever hurts you again. I promise," he said, kissing the top of her head and embracing her tightly.

Once they broke apart, Monica pulled her friend close and cradled her face.

"Honey, why didn't you tell us? You didn't have to go through this alone, it's all so much. We could have helped you" she said sweetly.

"I thought I could handle it..."

"But we're your friends, your problems are our problems too, and we handle them together. It's what we do."

"I just-I was afraid you'd see me differently."

"Pheebs that's crazy! Chandler joined in, if anything, we all see you as the strongest person in the world. I mean, you went through so much. I wouldn't be able to put up a fight that long," he admitted, squeezing her shoulder.

"Chandler's right, you're so strong, Pheebs. I don't know how you did it all this time," added Rachel, earning nods from the other four.

"You don't have to say that," reassured Phoebe, not wanting to be pitied by anyone.

"We mean it. We really do," said Monica, grabbing the blonde's shoulders tenderly, "And we love you so much. I'm so sorry that we didn't notice, how didn't we notice?"

"Don't. It's not your fault. I'm actually pretty great at pretending," Phoebe gave her a small smile.

"But we should have known. All this time we thought you were fine. We thought you were the happiest out of all of us, but you were going through this whole mess alone. We weren't there for you," Ross spoke on behalf of everyone. Guilt had slowly been creeping up their minds for the past hours, and now all they could think about was that they hadn't paid enough attention to their friend, and that this almost caused them to lose her forever.

"No! There was no way you could have known if I didn't want anyone to figure it out. Trust me, i'm good at hiding stuff and acting as if i've got it all under control, I learned to do that living on the streets. None of this is your fault! I was the one who chose to keep it a secret. Please don't blame yourselves guys, please. You don't know it, but you saved me so many times," the last thing she wanted was for her friends to feel guilty for something they were not at all responsible for. For years, these five people had done nothing but support her. They had always been her rock, and if it weren't for that, she'd have given up long ago.

Rachel, Chandler, Joey, Ross and Monica stayed silent, contemplating the possible amount of times they could have lost Phoebe in the past. Just thinking about it was terrifying.

"You know, if you had done it, if we hadn't come up here on time, that would have destroyed us. You know that right?" said Rachel truthfully after a long pause.

"You'd have gotten over it fast, i'm sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?" a confused Chandler asked.

"Look, I know you all care about me, I know you do, but at the end of the day, i'm not even that important. I'm not special, successful, or put together like the rest of you. I'm weird and useless and-"

"What the hell are you talking about Phoebe?" Joey interrupted, "I won't let you talk like that about yourself. I cannot believe you don't realize how valuable and unique and lovely you are."

"And you think we'd just forget about you? Are you crazy? You're so important to us! I mean you're Phoebe, you're irreplaceable," commented Ross truthfully.

"Sweetie, you're extremely special and we wouldn't trade you for anyone. And you should be proud of yourself. I mean, you used to beg for money and now you're able to make a living as a masseuse, i'd call that being successful," added Monica, who was followed by Rachel.

"You're totally successful! Look at you! And Pheebs, if it makes you feel better, none of us truly are put together. We're still figuring out life and trust me, we're not as stable as it seems."

"And you know what we love about you?" began Chandler, "that you're so wonderfully weird. That's what makes you, you. We love Phoebe as she already is, so caring, spontaneous, giving and beautiful, and absolutely not useless."

"Thank you," whispered the blonde, slightly taken aback from all the support. Even in a moment like this, they managed to make her feel slightly better. Phoebe had to admit she had amazing friends, and that's when a sudden wave of guilt hit her. She was going to end her life and in turn hurt the five people that had become her family, people who didn't deserve the pain of losing a loved one, a pain she knew all too well.

She started tentatively walking towards the door, hoping that her friends would allow her to drop the subject. The blonde felt exhausted; all she wanted right now was to sleep and get rid of that weighting feeling of uneasiness. But, as Phoebe turned she instantly felt herself being grabbed by the arm.

"Where do you think you're going? We're not done here," Joey stated firmly.

She turned around once again and sighed. Of course she wouldn't be let off that easily.

"Joey's right. Pheebs, we can't just let you go like that, not after all of this," added Rachel.

"Look, don't worry about me. I'm sorry I scared you, I really am, but it's late and I just want to go to bed. Thank you so much for everything guys, but i'm fine now, really" she said, although the truth was she wasn't. The other five seemed to know that too.

"No you're not, Phoebe. You don't have to lie to us anymore. I know you probably feel ashamed right now, but don't, we're your friends and none of us judge you for this," Monica stated, "we'd do absolutely anything for you, but you can't ask us to pretend tonight never happened and expect us to believe you're okay when you're clearly not. Let us help."

"Please let us help," somebody else repeated, and that's when, turning her face upwards, she noticed the five sparkling pairs of eyes staring back at her in the dark. Were they shimmering with hope or fear, she couldn't tell, but that's when she decided that maybe, just maybe, she could fight a little bit longer. To see those eyes, so full of emotion, Phoebe thought she'd never seen anyone look at her like that before. And suddenlly all she longed for in that moment, standing in the middle of the rooftop, was to have one more scrabble night with her friends.

With shaking hands she nodded and said in a tearful whisper, "I'll do my best."

She knew her mind was a torturous place, she knew she wouldn't be able to easily escape her thoughts, she was aware of the darkness that was still eating her alive, and out of the corner of her eye Phoebe still glanced at the traces of the leaves that had been carried by the wind, wondering what would have become of them if they had followed the others off the rooftop. She had never been more aware of it all. But for some reason, right then and there, she was willing to try to get her broken pieces back together, no matter how long it took and no matter how many times she was cut by her shattered edges.

"I wanna get through this."

"And you will," they replied, and as a tear slipped down her cheek Monica, Chandler, Ross, Rachel and Joey all huddled around their friend, giving her warmth in the midst of the cold night.

"We'll be there for you."

**The End.**


End file.
